Fighting Back
by susieq666
Summary: A sequel to 'Can't Do This Anymore'. Not sure where we're going to go with this, but couldn't leave him crying on the beach. Horatio is in limbo, doesn't know if he even has a job anymore. He struggles with thoughts of his future, possible retirement... And his health, which he might like to ignore, but can't.
1. Chapter 1

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 1

Horatio had slept fitfully, his brain playing and replaying the previous day. Hearing Hernandez calmly announce his replacement as boss of the crime lab. Hearing himself, 'I can't do this anymore.' Even so, he was unprepared for the total exhaustion that hit him when he awoke. He staggered to his feet and into the bathroom. His eyes were puffy, but, worse, was the engulfing weariness. He assumed it must be reaction, shock, and just plain old tiredness brought on by endless amounts of evening and weekend work.

He went back to bed. He wondered how much of the events of the previous day had filtered back to the lab. Maybe none… He reached for his phone and flipped it open. No messages… which more or less confirmed that no one had heard.

Even so, for the first time in his life, he couldn't face the lab. He phoned Eric. He could hear that his colleague was outside somewhere. But it was early - Eric would be out running. His normal greeting reinforced Horatio's belief that no one knew that anything unusual was going on.

"Eric? Look, I'm not coming in today…"

"Oh, okay… Are you not well?"

"Not really." _Well, it was a small lie. _"Headache, bad stomach… Flu or something…"

"You take it easy, brother. I'll come round later - see if you need anything."

"No need. I'll sleep it off."

He switched the phone off, and closed his eyes. _So why feel guilty? You don't even work there anymore…_

He wasn't worried about how the lab was running anyway - deep into the reorganization project, he hadn't been supervising directly for some weeks. He wondered if he wanted to. Go back… Go back to what he had been doing, before all this… Except he couldn't… A black mark on his health records was going to stop that. And now his rank was too senior… _No going back, Horatio…_ Anyway, hadn't he just slammed his badge down, and walked?

He dozed for a while, waking late in the morning, feeling confused and headachy. He actually wasn't feeling that well, but he had never before called in sick for such a trivial reason. He got up, showered, and sat on the balcony in a bathrobe, nursing a coffee. The state of limbo was the hardest thing to bear. He had no idea whether he was still employed, had been fired, was under notice… Whether Hernandez had told everyone… or no one. He knew he had to go in… sometime… and sort it out. But today? He was just too shattered.

He began to wonder what he'd make of retirement, if that was how it was to be. Not much, he thought. Work had been his life for so long, and so intensely, that he had little outside it to fall back on. No hobbies. He couldn't see himself playing golf, like most Miami retirees. Few family in the area… honestly, few family at all. His son… but he could hardly live in his pocket, and there were no shared interests anyway. Friends… well, they were mostly work colleagues… There was Eric, of course. His brother-in-law. And Alexx… always there for him, but with her own family and life to lead.

He hated self-pity, but it was creeping up on him, and he felt distinctly sorry for himself. And he was only fifty-seven, for God's sake! He could live another thirty years. He smiled wryly. _Very unlikely… _He had never expected to make it this far. Somehow surviving the streets of New York, the bomb squad… and then Miami… He knew he was labelled 'lucky' - in the thick of it, yet walking out unscathed. Well, mostly… Still, it looked as if it might be his heart that would take him out, not a bullet. He sighed. _Bring it on… _Except the idea offended his sense of the dramatic_. _He thought he'd rather go down in a hail of gunfire, than clutching his chest in some bathroom somewhere.

He was still brooding when Eric arrived. His colleague plunked himself down beside him on the balcony.

"How you doing, bro?"

He shrugged. "So-so…"

"You don't look so great…"

"Oh, it's just a bug…" _Feeling guilty… again. _"How's work?"

"Fine. Pretty quiet, for once."

"And Calleigh, and the kids?"

"Okay. No, better than okay. Good. Big change though."

"I should think it is - ready-made family like that." He looked at Eric. "Were you surprised?"

Eric chuckled. "Yeah, I was. Stunned, actually… I mean… we'd talked about children once… then we sort of drifted apart a bit. Then I got the feeling she wanted children more than she wanted a relationship… you know?"

"I didn't know. There was a time I would have done, maybe…"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, not Calleigh particularly. I just mean - I used to know a lot about all of you - we were close, like a family, I always thought. I seem to have lost that, somewhere along the way."

"Things change, H. The team got bigger. We got busier. So much happened…" He sighed. "Life happened."

Horatio smiled sadly. "Yes, it did. And death…"

"Hey… What are you thinking?" Eric regarded him sympathetically. "Mari?"

"Mari. Speed. Others… Too many, Eric."

"Yeah, far too many."

They sat in silence for a while, then Horatio seemed to pull himself out of the melancholy. "Sorry - bad host - do you want a drink?"

"I'll have a coffee." He put his hand on his colleague's arm. "Stay there. I'll get it."

"Okay. Get me a club soda from the fridge?"

As they sat beside each other again, Eric said, "Have you finished your assignment stuff?"

"More or less."

"You coming back to us?"

_Tell him, Horatio… _Aloud, he said, "Don't know, Eric. Don't know what's happening yet."

"We've missed you, you know."

Horatio took a sip of water, and murmured, "Shut up, Eric - you'll make me cry." It wasn't that far from the truth. He assumed he must really be under the weather. Tears too near the surface, self-pity, missing work for no reason… And really tired… He recognized it was out-of-character. Thought he ought to see a doctor. _Or a shrink… _He wondered if he still had access to Richard Evans, the PD medic. Rather depended if he still had a job. _What an unholy mess…_

He really needed to sort things out. As Eric got up to leave, Horatio said, "I won't be in tomorrow. I'm going to get a doctor's appointment." At his brother-in-law's worried expression, he added, "I'm just not right, Eric… Really tired… I need to sort it. I'll see you Monday, hopefully."

Once Eric had gone, he made a mental to-do list. First - obviously - see what his status was. Which meant going to Headquarters. He dreaded seeing Hernandez again, more because, with the initial shock fading, he knew his temper would explode. If he hadn't lost his job already, he soon would. Whatever he thought of the man, Hernandez was several ranks senior to himself… He toyed with going over his head, but rejected it. The higher echelons would close ranks… he, as a lowly captain, wouldn't have a chance. So, maybe the union… maybe he did have a case… He'd never needed their help - had always fought his own battles… He'd think about that one.

Assuming he was allowed in the building at all, he planned to see Richard Evans. He had had four or five angina attacks in as many weeks. Too many, and they were increasingly unpleasant. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was caught out, in public. True, the GTN seemed to work, to a point, but he felt he now needed more information.

He phoned, and got an appointment with the doctor for the following afternoon. And, buoyed up by having at least an approximation of an action plan, he began to feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 2

His inertia and depression dissipated overnight. Damn them - how could they just take the lab away from him! He had nothing against De Santos - in fact, he remembered liking the man - but that was no reason for _him _just to roll over. No doubt De Santos would do an excellent job, but - damn it - he already had the Los Angeles lab… Let him stay and do an excellent job there… So, he was ten years younger… Horatio wondered if that was the only reason for the decision. However talented the Californian was, he was sure he could more than match him, skill for skill. And, the new 'super-lab' - not his name for it; someone else had christened it so - was his baby.

He had decided to consult the union. In a way it went against the grain, but their lawyers would soon tell him if he had a case. He was just going to shave, and get ready to go to Headquarters, when his phone bleeped.

"Horatio Caine?" The voice was male, deep and mellow.

"Who is this?" His personal number was not widely available, which meant that either someone had given it out, or, whoever this was, was important enough to demand it.

"My name's John Milton."

"Like the poet."

There was a wry chuckle. "Exactly like the poet."

"Should I know you?"

"No reason you should. Our paths haven't crossed. I carry out internal investigations for MPD…"

"IAB?"

"Not exactly… I get brought in by the Director if things go badly awry… er… crisis management, if you will…"

"Am I a crisis?"

"You can probably guess why I'm involved…"

"Not really. I resigned, that's all. Can't imagine that would reach the Director's desk…"

"You do yourself a disservice. Anyway, let's clear one thing up - there hasn't been a formal letter of resignation… As far as I'm concerned, you're still a police captain."

"I can soon change that."

"Captain… Horatio… hear me out…" There was a calming, understanding quality to the man's voice - actually, not at all like IAB… "I'm aware of what Hernandez did. If I tell you he was completely out of order, and is currently suspended… Would it make you feel better?" Milton answered his own question. "Not much, I suspect. Look, I'd like for us to meet, have a chat. Off the record, if you like. Would you do that for me?"

He hesitated.

"Please, Horatio… Obviously, if you're determined to go, I can't stop you… But there are a few things I'd like to get straight… Just a chat."

Horatio sighed. "Okay. Guess I can do that."

"I'd like to say we could meet outside, have lunch… but almost everything I'm going to say is extremely sensitive… So it means Headquarters."

"I'll come in. Not a problem."

He was tempted to go in jeans and tee-shirt - a sort of up-yours gesture. But it was true he was still a police captain - albeit a captain without a badge… He put on a black silk shirt, and a black Armani suit. It seemed appropriate, if he was in mourning for his career… Was he though? He now couldn't decide what he was feeling - it seemed to swing between sadness, indignation, and a sort of relief, or at least acceptance.

John Milton was a tall, spare, black man, immaculate in appearance - the word 'dapper' came to mind. Crew-cut gray hair. Ex-military maybe… Horatio put him in his mid-sixties.

"Sir…" He shook hands.

"Call me John - you don't need to 'sir' me. Unlike you, I don't hold any rank now. In fact, I only get called in if…"

"There's big trouble."

The smile was warm. "Exactly. And before we start, let me say that you haven't done anything wrong… Well, a bit of a grandiose gesture, with the badge… but I can't say I blame you."

"At least I didn't ram it down his throat."

"No, nor did you… Horatio - I've got half the story… I'd like your version…"

"There isn't a version - he told me Alec De Santos was going to be running the lab." He shrugged. "I didn't think that left a place for me."

"Well… and all this is confidential… it's true that we have been in contact with De Santos. Also true that nothing was agreed, and it probably won't happen…"

"Then why did he say it?" Horatio was shocked.

"To hurt you. He feels - he says - that you rode roughshod over his plans, and made him look a fool…"

"It wasn't my intention."

"No, I don't think it was. You could, maybe, have been more diplomatic, but that's your only sin. You know the business of criminal investigation inside out, and acted accordingly… Producing, I have to say, a truly excellent proposal, which will be implemented in full. You're a very talented man, and I believe Hernandez severely underestimated you. He felt threatened by you."

"It was never personal. Well…" He looked down at his hands. "Until he made it so."

"I understand. He's not an easy man. But neither, I suspect, are you. Nevertheless, he overstepped the line, made a bad error of judgment, and he will pay for it… And that's my problem, not yours. It's you I want to talk about…"

Horatio waited. At that moment, he had no clear idea of what he wanted to happen, let alone what to expect.

Milton continued. "One thing Hernandez did say is that you have health issues, and that made you an unsuitable candidate to run the lab anyway. Now, I've looked at the reports, and all I see is a minor downgrading of your fitness… Is there more? I know health matters are confidential… but… did Hernandez know something that's not in your file?"

"No, definitely not. There's nothing else to know. That 'minor downgrading' was what started all this. An excuse to take me off front-line duties. I think he expected me just to implement his plans for the lab… Act as his hatchet man…" He remembered Alicia saying as much. "And then, presumably, go quietly."

Milton chuckled. "Then he's a singularly poor judge of character. So… your health… Do you want to trust me with more information? You don't have to…"

"I'll tell you… though you may think I should be resigning… I've got angina - narrowed arteries, I think… I'm on medication…"

"Is that all? Well, I have the same, as it happens. Who did you see? Richard Evans?"

Horatio nodded. "He said medication for now. Maybe surgery later… Actually, I intended to see him this afternoon… Find out a bit more…"

"Can I have your permission to talk to him about you?"

"Of course." _Having gone this far… _

Milton nodded. "I appreciate your trust. Now… this resignation… Would you like to put it off for a while?"

Horatio smiled ruefully. "If you like."

Milton reached into a drawer. "Then I think these are yours." He handed him his gun and badge. "But I also think you should stay on leave while we sort a few things out… There are a lot of ruffled feathers, in high places… I'd like you out of the firing line. Are you okay with that?"

He nodded.

"You're off sick at the moment?"

"Only yesterday…I just…"

"You don't have to justify yourself. I think you should stay on sick leave, at least for next week. I'll get some suitable message to the lab…"

"They don't know anything about my… heart problems… Or any of this."

"And I'm not going to tell them, don't worry. We'll cite a virus or something. I just want you out of the way while this settles down, and I work out what's going to happen." He paused, taking Horatio's silence for agreement. "Good. Talk to Evans - see what he recommends. Then go home, have a rest. One thing I've learnt about angina - it doesn't appreciate stress, and I suspect we've put more stress on you than was ever intended. I'll give you a call within the week…"


	3. Chapter 3

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 3

Richard Evans seemed more concerned than Horatio had expected. "You shouldn't be suffering this much, especially if you're not exerting yourself physically."

"I'm not. I assumed it was stress…"

"Have you had a lot of stress?"

"You could say that. But… Was a time it wouldn't have bothered me… Not that it bothers me now, not consciously…" He found himself giving the doctor an abbreviated version of recent events. "And I've told John Milton he can discuss my health with you…"

"Well… You've had a difficult time, no question… Still are, I imagine, since you don't know what you'll be doing next." The doctor studied him for a few seconds. "I'm not too worried about you in the immediate future… But I wonder if we should think about going a different route… Since the medication's only moderately effective…"

"Surgery?"

"Angioplasty. You know what that is?"

"I think so. Re-inflating the arteries?"

"Yes. Non-invasive… Insertion of balloons, or stents… Done through a tiny opening into an artery, under sedation, but not anesthetic… First, we need to see if you're suitable. Few more tests. You up for that?"

Horatio sighed. "Dade Memorial?"

"Dade Memorial… I'll set it up. You go home, get some rest…"

"People keep telling me that."

"Probably because you look so damned tired." He smiled. "Cheer up. We'll get you sorted."

xxxxxxxxxxx

He thought the hardest thing was waiting. Waiting to hear from John Milton, and Richard Evans. And the hospital. Waiting and not knowing… Predictably, since he'd taken a week off sick, Eric pestered him for news, and he found himself palming off his colleague with the virus story. He was tired, and it just seemed too complicated to explain.

After a boring couple of days, he was looking for company. And for something to distract him. He phoned his son.

Kyle was his usual enthusiastic self. "Dad! I'm sorry I haven't phoned you. I've been busy, but -"

"Kyle… Son… I don't expect you to… You've got your own life. So what are you up to?"

"Not so much… Trying to decide a few things…" _You too…? _"What about you, Dad? You okay?"

"Oh… so-so. Kyle, d'you want to come over sometime?"

"Only so-so? Doesn't sound like you. Yes, of course I'll come. You _are_ okay, right?"

He hadn't really meant to worry him. _Should have just said 'fine'._ "I'm okay. Lot going on, that's all."

"I could come over this evening…"

"Bring some take-out - I'm not cooking for your ravenous appetite."

"Not ravenous, Dad. Just enjoying something other than army rations. See you later."

Kyle breezed in as he always did, like a small hurricane. It never failed to lift Horatio's spirits. He'd like to have hugged him, kissed him even, but knew Kyle was still of an age where too much emotion, especially from his father, was embarrassing. Instead, he watched his son doling out the food - far too much, as usual - and followed him to the balcony.

"So…" he said at last, "what having you been trying to decide?"

"Oh, you know… what to do next. You know I decided not to re-enlist, but since then, I've just been bumming around… odd jobs… Trouble is, Dad, I'm not qualified to do anything else. Everyone either wants qualifications, or experience…"

"So what would you like to do?"

"You'll laugh."

"Why would I do that?"

"Well… I'd like to do something in the lab… Your lab…"

"You liked working in the morgue…"

"Body-hauling! I want more than that, Dad! But I never got the right exams."

"All right. Slow down… Kyle… There are probably two ways in… College. Or police academy. I can give you an intro, though you know I can't pull strings for you…"

"Hey, Dad, I didn't mean that! I wouldn't want you to. I'm just not sure about going to college… I'm twenty-two… Students are all, like, eighteen. Or less."

"What can I say? If you want it enough, you'll do it. I think you've got the discipline…" He smiled. "Well, _now_ you have. One thing the army's good at - discipline. And you know I'll support you…"

"I wasn't asking for that…"

"I know. But I will. Happy to. But you need to be sure it's what you want to do."

"Yeah… I'll think some more about it… Anyway, Dad - why are you only 'so-so'? There's nothing wrong with you, is there?" He frowned. "You look really really tired… What's with this 'lot going on'?"

Horatio hesitated, wondering whether to mention the question marks over his job. But finally, he said, "I've got a minor problem… health problem… It might mean a day or two in hospital…"

"Shit, that sucks. Dad, you haven't got cancer or something horrible, have you?"

"Why would I have cancer? Kyle… _minor_ problem, I said. I just thought you should know." He explained about the chest pain, the less-than-effective medication and the suggested surgical option. "It's nothing… You're not even knocked out for it."

"Are you sure? How long have you been ill? Why didn't you tell me?"

Horatio chuckled. "In order - yes, I'm sure; few months; and it seemed too minor to bother you with."

"You're my father. You should have bothered me. I'm not a child."

"No, you're not, I'm sorry."

"You'll tell me when you're going into hospital, won't you? And I can look after you when you're home…"

"Son… it's a minor procedure…"

"Dad, I want to. I know you like to play the tough guy, but let me… I don't know… just be there for you, for a change."

Horatio nodded, then smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "By the way, I got promoted. Captain…"

"Wow!" Kyle's worried face broke into a grin. "My old man a captain…"

"Doesn't mean much…"

"Of course it does. 'Rank has its privileges' - as they used to tell us in the army."

"Tell my bosses. They're less than impressed with me at the moment."

"I don't believe that for a minute!" He stood up. "Hey, Dad, I ought to go. Meeting Dev - there's a new club we want to try… You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course I don't. Go and enjoy yourself." Horatio smiled inwardly - talk about an age difference… He was thinking about bed, and Kyle was going clubbing.

At the door, his son suddenly put his arms round him, in an awkward embrace. "Love you, Dad…"


	4. Chapter 4

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 4

Horatio got into a sleeping-late, not-doing-anything-useful routine rather quickly. Too quickly, he thought. He realised it was partly that the doctor's cautious assessment of him had made him a little more aware of his health. Anyway, there was nothing to do at the moment. He was waiting…

Several of his answers came at once. Richard Evans, saying that yes, he fit the bill for angioplasty, and did he want to come in the next day to discuss. He agreed. Almost immediately, John Milton called.

"Horatio… How are you?"

"Fine. Being lazy… Waiting," he added pointedly.

"I know you are… Well… I can't tell you everything you want to know… but some of my investigation is done. Now, I have to put something to you…" He hesitated. "I believe you have a good case for constructive dismissal - even though it didn't get as far as that. I think, if it hadn't come to the Director's - and my - attention as quickly as it did, you would have seen yourself with no option but to go. Now, if you pursue that, Hernandez will face a serious misconduct charge." He paused. "And it may well become public."

"Not sure that does anyone much good, does it? Particularly the service." Horatio said quietly. "Alternative?"

"You get a formal apology. And Hernandez quietly takes early retirement… How do you feel about that?"

He didn't hesitate. "I can live with that."

He could hear that Milton was smiling. "Thank you. Now, I just spoke to the Medical Center, and I gather you're going in to see them…"

"Tomorrow, yes."

"Will you come up and see me afterwards? I hope I'll have more to tell you."

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"They make a tiny incision in the groin…" Richard Evans laughed. "You winced! Everyone does. Catheter up the main artery. It doesn't hurt… uncomfortable rather than painful… Probably home the next day, though you need to take it very very easy for a few days… Got someone to look after you?"

Horatio smiled. "My son seems determined to nurse me."

"Good. Then… as it's the first time you've had it done, you'll need to be monitored for a couple of months… Just in case you're one of the four percent it doesn't work on. And you'll be on drugs - blood thinners - for six months or more. So try not to get yourself shot."

"Thank you, Richard… You know how to cheer a man up."

"You'll be all right. In fact, you'll probably feel rejuvenated. The downside is, it doesn't always last - you may need it redone in a couple of years."

"In my business, I don't generally think a couple of years ahead. Can I work?"

"I'd suggest a month or so off… Have you got your old job back?"

Horatio sighed. "Don't know. I'm just off to see John Milton. I'm hoping he'll tell me. Tell you what, Richard, not knowing is far more stressful than doing the job."

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If he had hoped to know about his future, he was to be disappointed.

"I'm really sorry, Horatio… The decision's still with the Director…"

"Can't you tell me anything?"

"Well… I know that you're going to be recommended to take at least a month off…"

"Yes, Richard said."

"And I can tell you that while you're away, all the changes in your proposal will be effected."

"But it was _my_ proposal…"

"What I'm talking about is building work, stripping out some areas, turning them into lab space… I'm talking about people leaving… Other people moving in… It's admin and logistics. It doesn't need a police captain, not till it's finished. In fact, you really don't want to be there. You know how these things go. Noisy, messy, and everyone gets bad-tempered."

"So who'll be in charge of it?"

"Buildings Management plus someone from Human Resources, I imagine. And the normal work of the lab will go on as it is now."

"So what about me?"

"I really haven't got an answer, Horatio…. I'm so sorry. I'm seeing the Director again later - at which point my work's just about done. I will strongly recommend that they don't keep you in limbo any longer."

"I wish you would. It's killing me."

He meant it metaphorically, but Milton said seriously, "I know it's not doing you any good. You're in hospital next week?"

He nodded.

"It doesn't really hurt, you know - I've had it done twice. The worst thing is the access point. You'll feel like you've been kicked in the… er…"

Horatio smiled. "I get it."

"And you should feel quite remarkably better once you get over it. I was surprised. Surprised at how far down I'd let my health go. I hope it's the same for you. Good luck, Captain." He held out his hand. "In every way."

"Thank you."

"I shouldn't say this, and don't quote me, but I believe everything's going to come right for you."

Horatio appreciated the sentiment, but he felt very alone as he waited for the elevator to take him downstairs. True, he had his rank - salary and pension secure - but no real job to do… and hospital… and convalescence… And no one apparently wanting to see him for a month or more…

The elevator stopped on the way down to let a woman in. He was so lost in thought, he didn't look at her immediately.

"Horatio?"

"Alicia! My God… Sorry, I was miles away… How are you?"

"I'm fine. Now." She chuckled. "I was fired. Then re-instated, with a pay rise. All your fault…"

"Mine?"

"No, not really. Are you in a rush, or have you got time for lunch?"

"Alicia, time is about all I've got."


	5. Chapter 5

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 5

"So what happened? And why was it my fault?" Horatio asked, as they sat outside a small bistro near Headquarters.

"Long story… I went into the Chief's office… just after your meeting with him… And he had your gun and badge on his desk - I didn't know they were yours then… But he had this really self-satisfied look on his face, and he said 'I think we've got rid of him' - you, that is. And it all sort of clicked into place. I wanted to hit him."

"You didn't?"

"Only verbally. I yelled and screamed at him. I mean, I knew you'd gotten under his skin… very insecure man… He basically knew you were a lot more talented than him… But I couldn't believe what he'd done to you. That job was yours, no question…"

"Clearly not. It still isn't."

"Really? That's just bureaucracy… well, I hope that's all it is." She frowned, silent for a moment. "You know how discreet I am…" A wry smile crossed her face, "so I'll tell you what I know."

"Tell me about you first. You got fired?"

"There and then. I was so mad, I went to the Director. Not about my job. About yours. I threatened to go to the media. And… as you know… all hell broke loose… Anyway, I got my job back - well, slightly different job - I'm working for the Deputy Director now. John Milton got called in to sort out the mess…" She paused. "What I can't understand is how there was any question over your position… There was a short-list of people to run the lab… they sort of have to go through the motions of a selection process…"

He ignored her last remarks. "You sure things are okay for you now?"

"They're fine. But not for you apparently… This short-list… It was whittled down to you and Alec De Santos. The Chief - ex-Chief, I should say - wanted De Santos… but it wasn't going to happen…"

"Why not? He's a good man."

"Well, primarily because no one else wanted him. As I said, they were going through the motions, but the job was yours, it was assumed. And De Santos wasn't keen to come - he wanted far too much in terms of relocation expenses - particular schools for his kids, that sort of thing. Anyway, everyone except Hernandez wanted you."

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm in all the meetings. They kind of forget I'm there." She chuckled. "Or maybe they rely on my discretion. And I would be, Horatio… if he hadn't done what he did."

"I know. Go on…"

"Well, it was all okay… more or less… till the Chief brought up…" She stopped, then continued more softly. "Stuff I assumed he was making up… That you were ill, and unfit to take on a high-powered job at all… You're not, are you?"

"Not ill. Minor stuff…"

She nodded thoughtfully. "Anyway… Just after that… there was your meeting with him… and everything blew up. What minor stuff?" She blushed. "Sorry, not my business."

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "After everything you've done for me, it can be your business. It's just very boring."

"Tell me…"

Horatio sighed, but briefly summarised his health problems. "But… hospital next week… should sort it out."

"But they haven't given you the job yet?"

He shook his head. "I wish they'd tell me. One way or another."

"I'm sure it is just the bureaucracy in this place. They were a bit thrown by what happened, but it's still got to be you. It's obvious. I mean, who else?"

"I appreciate your faith in me… Though they seem to want me to stay out of the way for a month or so."

"Convalescence…"

"Long time though - their excuse is the work on the lab…"

"Well, that's reasonable. You don't want to be there while it's in a state of upheaval. But they should tell you what's going to happen. Perhaps I could find out…"

"No, you couldn't. You've taken more than enough risks for me. I'll be all right. Just want to get this wretched hospital stuff over…"

xxxxxxxxxx

He thought everyone had rather underplayed the angioplasty. True, there wasn't any real pain, and, if there had been, he could have handled it. But he found the whole business deeply unpleasant. Sedated, but conscious, he was invited to watch the screens as the catheter was manouvered through his arteries. He wasn't squeamish, and it provided some interest during the ninety-minute procedure, but he suffered several bouts of nausea and even faintness from the peculiar sensations he was experiencing. They said it was normal, paused, wiped the sweat from him… But he was relieved when it was over, and he was in bed in a private room.

Still sedated, he slept easily.

The following morning, they got him on his feet, and he discovered that John Milton was right. He felt as if he'd been kicked in the balls.

The very attractive nurse who was tending him, chuckled. "It's just bruising. You're probably a bit swollen. As long as you're not bleeding."

He felt the dressing quickly. Before she did. "I'm not bleeding."

"How does your chest feel?"

"Fine. Bit bruised…"

"Walk with me. Just down the corridor. We need to get the circulation going."

It hurt. To walk, to sit… In fact, everything but lying flat on his back. That was how Kyle found him.

"Dad, they say I can take you home. How was it?"

"'It' was fine. Just having trouble walking…"

"Why? Is your heart…?"

Horatio smiled. "Heart's fine. It's more the route they chose to get to it…" At Kyle's puzzled look, he added, "Where are the arteries near the surface?"

"Armpit. Groin."

"Exactly."

"Oh Dad… Oh, yuck… I wish you hadn't told me that!"

"So you need to drive me very gently home… No bumps, no sharp cornering. Okay?" He held out a hand.


	6. Chapter 6

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 6

"Ouch…" Horatio gasped as the car jolted. "Take it easy, will you?"

"Sorry, Dad - it's the stiffened suspension…"

"You're not into street racing, are you?" It was the usual reason for stiffening a car's suspension.

"Dad! No, I'm not. The vehicle is though - it's borrowed from a friend. Sorry - I'll slow down."

He chuckled. They were already going slowly in Kyle's book - he knew his son had inherited his own penchant for fast driving. "I'm fine, son."

Kyle glanced at his father. "I do know street racing's illegal…"

Horatio raised his eyebrows. "Did I say anything? I am _strictly_ off-duty…"

xxxxxxxxx

For twenty-four hours, Horatio felt sore and unusually fragile, but he wasn't, surprisingly, depressed about it. Kyle's care of him was touchingly tender, and he rather enjoyed it. More used to rejecting all offers of help, Horatio found himself submitting quite happily to having his food and drink fetched, and the offer of a strong arm to help him from sofa to bathroom, balcony to bed. He protested when Kyle insisted on staying the night… but not very much.

By the second evening, feeling better, he said quietly, "You know I'm okay now… You must want to see your friends…"

Kyle shrugged. "Rather be with my old man at the moment. Do you want me to go?"

"No, not at all."

They sat on the balcony, as the sun went down, Kyle with a beer, Horatio with coffee - he was conscious that he still had a lot of drugs in his system.

Kyle broke the silence, his words hurried and awkward. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"In your job… you've seen really horrible things, right?"

"Of course…"

"Do you… keep thinking about them?"

Horatio was silent for a few moments. "For a while… And there are one or two that have always stayed with me… But, if I lay in bed, thinking over every bad scene, every corpse… I think it would have killed me by now." He looked at his son. "Is this about things you saw…?"

Kyle nodded, studying his hands. "I know you think I'm all about having fun, clubbing, no job…"

"I don't think that."

"I suppose I just want to forget some things…"

"I don't know what to tell you… My thought processes… that I didn't cause what's happened… That my job is to make things better, as far as I can… if not for the victim, then for the people left behind. But I'm not sure you can apply that to what you've been through. I've been a cop for over thirty years, but I was never in the military."

"And when they're not just victims, but friends - people you know?"

"Then they tend to be the ones that stay with you… And, no, you won't really forget." He sighed. "I wish I had a magic formula for you, son, I really do… You'll learn to manage the memories… I wouldn't recommend relying on drink or drugs to do it for you."

"I'm not that stupid."

"I've never thought you were stupid. But… memories… All I can suggest is concentrating on the good stuff…"

"In Afghanistan? There wasn't much good stuff, Dad."

"I'm sure there was some. Friends you made… You told me yourself about re-building a school… and the kids… Things like that. No, it's not much. Probably not enough…"

Kyle fell silent, leaving Horatio feeling he'd just failed him. But it was true - there _were _no magic formulae, and his son would have to find his own way to peace of mind. Just as he had done… so many times. The conversation moved on. To Julia… To Kyle's future… They talked deep into the night. It occurred to him that he had never spent so much continuous time with his son, and he treasured it.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Horatio soon discovered that John Milton had been right in another way - he did feel a lot better - rejuvenated. His tiredness went, and his energy returned, at a level he hadn't really felt for a while. And, consequently, he chafed at the restrictions placed on him. He was tempted to go into the lab, which he'd more or less promised not to, but managed to resist. He called Eric instead.

Eric seemed relieved to hear from him. "H, thank God! I've been so worried."

"Hey, Eric… I'm okay."

"We were told you wouldn't be in until all the work on the lab was finished. We were sort of told… well, it was hinted… we should leave you alone… And I phoned you a couple of days ago, and there was no answer… H, what's going on?"

"A lot. Or not much, depending how you view it. Are you busy? Come and have lunch…"

He felt guilty at having kept his brother-in-law in the dark. Over lunch, he outlined his health issues, and his recent hospital treatment.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell _me?_" Eric was clearly hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. It's just… It's me, Eric - you know I can't bear fuss about things like that."

"Yes, I do. Only too well!" Eric sounded exasperated. "Why do you do this? Don't you think we'd want to know? To help you? Do you have to do _everything_ alone?"

"Hey, stop! Kyle's been looking after me. And I'm fine now… Okay?"

"I suppose. I just wish you'd said. So is that why you're not at work?"

"Partly."

"Partly?"

He told him everything - his run-in with Hernandez, his attempt at resignation, John Milton's intervention… "So I think, at the moment, my presence is a bit of an embarrassment to them. Until the dust settles…"

"But you'll be back then…"

"They won't say, Eric." He sighed. "I really wish they'd tell me. I think I'm odds-on favorite, but it'd still be nice to know."

"Why are you so calm about it?" This time, Eric seemed really angry. "How can they do this to you? You _made _that lab. Anyway, if they bring some Hollywood wise guy in, none of us will work for him."

"Oh yes, you will!" Horatio said sharply. "This is Miami's main - correction, only - crime lab, not my personal fiefdom. It doesn't matter who's in charge."

"But, H…"

"Don't 'but, H' me, Eric. I'm telling you this because I wanted you to know why I'd abandoned you all, and I know I ought to have told you before… But, I don't want gossip spread around, and I certainly don't want rebellion. How would that reflect on all of you? And on me? Promise to keep a lid on it, or I'll regret saying anything."

"All right, I promise. Can I tell the others? At least Calleigh?"

"You can tell Calleigh."

"But I can't promise I'll stay, if we get a new boss…"

"Well, I can't make you. And," He smiled suddenly, "I can hardly advise restraint, considering how I reacted. But, Eric… things are cooling down. I'm sure I'll hear soon."

"You've got good instincts… Do you think it's going to work out?"

He was silent for a few moments, thinking about Milton's last comment to him. And Alicia's information. Then he said quietly, "Yes, I do."


	7. Chapter 7

FIGHTING BACK

Chapter 7

Although Horatio had been checking his mailbox, almost to the point of paranoia, the decision, when it came, took him completely by surprise.

Signing in at Headquarters, prior to yet another check-up from Richard Evans, he was handed a bulky envelope. He looked questioningly at the receptionist.

"It was going in the mail," she explained. "But as you were on the list as coming in today…"

"Thank you."

He ripped the envelope open. The first line of the top page jumped out at him, so dramatically, that his vision blurred for a second, before he focussed and read 'Miami Police Department is pleased to offer…'

Aloud, he said, "Yes!" then, embarrassed, "Sorry, I've been waiting for this."

"Good news?"

"Very. Thank you." He glanced through the rest of the contents. Details of his pay. A three page job description… He went back to the first page, pulled off the duplicate - his acceptance - leant on the desk and signed it.

The receptionist, clearly recognizing his elation, and discerning some of the reason for it, smiled at him. "Envelope?"

"Please." He folded his acceptance letter into the envelope, sealed it and addressed it. "Would you see that this gets upstairs?"

"I will."

He almost sprinted to the Medical Center.

Richard Evans laughed at him. "Well, it's a long time since I've seen you like this."

He tried - and failed - to stop grinning. "Like what?"

"Smiling. Fired up. Energetic. Have you got your job?"

"Just. Just a few minutes ago. Oh God, Richard, it's been such a wait!"

"I know. The wheels grind very slowly upstairs. Not easy for you, I know. But you've got what you want? I'm truly happy for you. In fact…" He reached across and shook hands. "Congratulations, Captain."

"Thank you."

"So… apart from the fact that you're currently bouncing off the walls… how are you feeling?"

"Great. Loads of energy."

"You look pretty good. So much better than you did. Let's just check you over."

He was pronounced fit. As he knew he was. "You can build your exercise up a bit if you want," the doctor said. "Any discomfort, stop and come straight back to me. And I don't want to see you running a marathon yet."

"Richard, I've never run a marathon in my life. No intention of starting now."

"But at the moment you feel you could…"

"I do. I'm sorry, I'll calm down in a minute."

"Not on my account. It's good to see. Go on, you're fine. Go and celebrate."

He walked briskly back to his car. He supposed he ought to see exactly what he'd just accepted. He bought a sandwich, drove out to the beach, parked up and re-opened the envelope.

The job was everything he had hoped. He had been given total control over the biggest crime lab in the state. Full control over the enormous budget - well, it felt enormous… No doubt it wasn't, when it actually came to spending it. Full authority to hire, fire, and promote. He read through the job description. It was heavily administrative - he hadn't expected anything else - and, oddly, it didn't worry him. He had discovered, during the reorganization project, that it was possible to make that as rewarding as anything else he had done.

On the third page, it was clear that he could also, 'as he deemed appropriate', work directly in the labs, and attend crime scenes. He smiled grimly - if he did everything demanded on the first two pages, it seemed doubtful he'd have time for anything else, deemed appropriate or not.

But maybe he would… He discovered they had authorized an Administrative Assistant to work for him, and at a fairly high pay grade, which certainly made the person more than just a secretary. He wondered whether Alicia would be interested. They had worked well together, but she was already in a good job… And they might not appreciate him poaching Headquarters staff anyway…

He checked his physical obligations - annual medical checks - he had half expected the frequency of these to be increased, but they hadn't been… And annual firearms proficiency checks… Nothing new.

He turned back to the page that detailed his salary. In a way, it was the part that interested him least, but he couldn't deny it was generous. Above his basic pay as a captain, there was a bonus scheme… He wondered how you measured productivity in a crime lab, but no doubt it was in the small print somewhere… There were expenses, a mileage allowance for his own car… In fact, they could hardly have been more generous.

If there was one tiny negative, it was that the start date was a week and a half away, so he'd have to cool his heels for a bit longer. Still, he could use the time to work on his fitness…

Carefully, he put the papers away, leant back on the headrest, and closed his eyes. He felt as if he'd just completed a very long journey.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

_Go and celebrate… okay, but who with?_ He realised he'd been so secretive that very few people knew there was anything going on. Alicia did, of course. And Eric. Probably Calleigh. He hadn't even told Kyle. He supposed Eric had been right - he handled most things alone… Always had, and he knew he wasn't likely to change now. But it did limit the possibilities for a celebration. Anyway, it was the middle of the afternoon - everyone would be at work, and he hardly felt like getting drunk on his own.

On an impulse, he drove to the lab, pulling into the side road. There was a row of builders' trucks, and a couple of sweating - and swearing - men, in coveralls, were trying to manouver a very large piece of furniture through a very narrow entrance. He watched for a minute or so, working out that if they turned it on its side… He smiled and shook his head, realising he probably was better out of it, but he pulled out his cell and called Eric.

He got voicemail. Unreasonably disappointed, he simply left a message, 'I got the job,' and drove home. In the silent apartment, he changed quickly into running gear, and went across the road to the beach, fighting a sense of anti-climax. Still, a short run… walk back… he didn't intend to overdo it.

He was out-of-condition, but pleased that he felt no discomfort. That he could, if careful, work his fitness back to a good level. Back opposite the condo, he sat down and took a swig from his water bottle. He remembered the last time he had sat in this spot… in the dark… crying… Again he had the feeling of having completed a journey. _And maybe there's another one just starting… _He leant back against his favorite tree and gazed at the ocean. Now he just had a week and a half to kill…

THE END

**(Author's note - I know there's not much of a story here. I just felt I needed to get him out of the state I'd left him in, in my last effort. Thank you to those of you who have commented. Now, I shall probably take a step backwards, to his old rank, old job… Not logical, and I apologize, but writers can be very fickle.)**


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